Untitled
by xPRUx
Summary: So I've never written for The 100 before, have for other fandoms, but it's been awhile, so it might be a bit drab. Untitled because I couldn't come up with anything decent. Rated M just to be safe.. Set at episode 3x04, after Lexa and Clarke's "meeting" in her bedroom. One parter.


Summer nights in Polis were the worst. The sweltering air always rose high in altitude, especially at night. Even with the slight chill the night brought with the set sun, the heat stored and trapped

inside the porous ground from the earlier sun rays, would emit into the city's open air and eviscerate the night's chill. As midnight approached, the heat wave would reach its climax, setting the entire

city, and, on this particular night, a certain brunette on fire.

She tossed and turned, flipped and switched positions, trying to find that place, that one spot. Furs and blankets strewn over and across the concrete floor, she struggled, struggled with it all- the

uncomfortable surface of her bed, her sweat tinged hair sticking to her body, the humidity that drenched her walls and choked her with its scorched air. But it all paled in comparison to the one thing

that was really at the point of her frustrations. The same thing that had been for quite some time.

Lexa finally stopped the twisting and turning, ending up dead center in the bed, as she sighed out annoyingly. Dragging herself out of bed, she walked over to the balcony, eyes casting upwards at the

new moon and its sparkling companions- the stars, littered on the vast expanse of its masterpiece- the sky. The sky... and its sky girl. Running a hand through her curly mane, Lexa sighed wistfully.

How could something so beautiful, so near, within an arm's length, be so out of reach. Replaying the night's earlier events when she went to her, after the fight with Roan, she had no control. She had to

see the blonde. The tension, becoming more and more unbearable as they sat mere inches from each other, Clarke carefully changing the wrap on her hand. So soft, caressing at times, even as

unintentional as it may or may not have been. The heat between them, the fire that stoked behind their colored eyes, almost, ALMOST sent them crashing into the unknown waters they had both been

fighting to stay afloat from. Even harder than that was pulling away from her, walking away from Clarke when all she wanted to do was take her, softly, on her bed and taste the lips she had been

thirsting for since they first kissed in her tent. Her own frame betraying her, as she internally fought herself to make her way to the door when her body was pulling her back towards Clarke. It had been

a daily struggle. The blonde girl had put her under a raging spell, blinding her, shackling her, commanding her to fulfill Clarke's every wish. She had fallen to her knees, literally, a victim to the temptress

of golden locks, sky blue orbs, soft pink lips...

She sighed once again, a sign of weakness she always thought, expelling breath due to one's lack of control. Once again, she felt herself being drawn back to the Ambassador. Drawn back not entirely

accurate since the blonde had never really left the Commander's thoughts. She lived there, inside Lexa's mind, taunting her to no end. But she had to see her again, talk to her, she needed Clarke

somehow, in some way.

Hesitating, Lexa sighed into her hands. This was not the way she wanted to come across- needy, invasive… creepy. Stalking over to Clarke's room in the middle of the night… and what could she

possibly have to say, what was of such importance. Nothing. Just the aching need to reach out to her, maybe mumble out some lame reason or excuse that wouldn't mean much. She might regret it

later, but the Commander understood that she would not be able to sleep without at least trying. She found herself suddenly on autopilot, halfway down the hall. It was a blur from the last thoughts in

her room to where she now tread. The Commander hurried down to the floor just below, and slowed immediately upon seeing Clarke's door. It was now or never...

There she was, once again pacing, restless in her room. She swore she could feel steam filtering out of every orifice of her body, the heat of nightfall boiling her insides, organs melting her to her core.

Clarke stepped towards the nightstand by her bed, dipping a piece of worn cloth into the bowl of tepid water, not caring to wring out the excess water, and slid the cloth down her face to her neck,

letting the extra liquid soak into heated skin. Sighing a bit of relief, she let the cloth roam its way under her blouse down to her stomach. Her fingers unintentionally angled off the cloth, her muscles

slightly clenching, feeling the soft caress of her fingers. She closed her eyes, the simple satisfaction she now felt, led her mind, as it always did, to another pleasure. The one she had been denying

herself over and over. The one she locked and stored away in the deepest parts of her. Clarke breathed out, expelling air she didn't realize she had been holding. It had barely been a couple hours since

they had been together, in her room, dangerously close to succumbing to their desire.

The sky girl blushed at the vision of the Commander in her sleek black gown, bare back, leaving nothing to the imagination really. The way her baby blues drank in the sculptured, tanned backside, as

the slit in the gown led dangerously low. She wondered if Lexa saw the heat rise in her cheeks. Or if she could tell that her breathing became shallow and labored when they were so close together. She

didn't really stand a chance. Since the fight earlier between Lexa and Roan, Clarke had been in a spell herself. If she was really going to be honest, in the deepest part of herself, where it was safe to

admit what she had been trying to deny since, well, since even before the kiss in the Lexa's tent. The blonde had slowly become infatuated with the Commander since she first laid eyes on her. This

slow, sexual tension, doused with something stronger, a word she could not allow herself to indulge in, had been building and building inside her. And seeing Lexa earlier that day in combat, the way

her skin glistened under the sun's rays, the dark intensity in her eyes, sent the blonde's walls crumbling. All day, she was in a haze, drunk on desire. She wanted to be taken, wanted to finally surrender

herself to Lexa and let the brunette have her way with her, the most delicious ways, she imagined. Clarke shuddered, as the most insane thoughts began to ignite her body.

Never had she ever wanted Lexa more than she did then. Wanting to run into her arms, ready and willing to give her what she knew she wanted, ready to do the things she had been dreaming about

while she lay in bed alone. Clarke's libido was now in full control as her body commanded her to storm Lexa's room and give herself to the brunette...

Coming to a halt in front of Clarke's door, Lexa hesitated. She still had no idea what she was doing, only that she could not stop herself. She reached out to the door knob, lightly grazing it, her thumb

and middle fingers skimming the metal. She toyed with it as she reasoned and still fought with herself. She wasn't sure anymore if she could do it...

At the same time, the blonde on the other side, already in her robe, ready to walk out, leaned in to grasp the door knob. But lost her nerve at the very touch, sighing in resignation. In her mind, she was

still not ready. But her heart knew that was a lie. She knew. But the first step was always the hardest. And as much as her heart, along with other choice parts of her anatomy, were all but dragging her

out to Lexa's room, her unfaltering doubt triumphed in the end. Clarke shakily breathed out, angry at herself, frustrated. She leaned into the door, the left side of her face and body softly rubbing against

the rough wood. Closing her eyes, feeling the sting of hot tears on the verge of spilling over, she began lightly caressing the surface. It was all too much. The thoughts of she and the Commander in the

throes of urgent passion, the wanting, the needing, started a fire within her, one she could no longer control. She needed to touch, needed to feel. Imagining Lexa's body against hers, her body ever so

lightly against the door. It reminded her of the Commander's body, of the one and only time they kissed. Her body was strong and solid. She remembered as the kiss continued though, Lexa's body

began to soften but stayed firm. She missed that feeling. She needed that once more. Her imagination let her go there, let her be there once again...

Simultaneously, the brunette on the other side, faced the door, straight forward, leaning her forehead and placing her hands flat against the door. Her heart was racing, chest began pumping wildly.

Trying to calm herself, Lexa froze. She was in such a hurry to get there, as to not to lose her nerve, she still didn't know what she was going to do.

' _War, politics, maybe a midnight chat_ _over tea…'_

The Commander, without thinking, punched her upper thigh, frustrated, angry with herself for such ridiculousness. She placed her hand back against the door, steadying herself once more, as she tried

to regain her composure.

' _What the hell are you doing?!'_ She berated herself.

She couldn't believe what she'd been reduced to- a mess of feelings, a wreck of emotions, weak. Sighing, she knew she was just working herself up to distract herself. But she had to do it. Finally,

balling up her right hand, she motioned it towards the door, just about to knock. Lexa closed her eyes, scared, waiting for the sound, but it never came. Her hand had opened up once again and lay flat

against the door. She sighed for the umpteenth time; she just couldn't do it...

Clarke desperately pleaded with herself that this was the right thing. It couldn't happen this way, not like this. Not because of weakness or lack of resolve, not in reckless abandonment. She didn't want

it that way and somehow, she knew Lexa wouldn't either. Relinquishing her thoughts, she gave up, not on Lexa, not on them, she just gave up on the night. It wasn't time.

"Good night Lexa."

Sadly smiling, the blonde felt her heart at ease, as she walked back to her bed, laying down. She pulled the covers up to her chest, clutching them in her hands. If she couldn't have her tonight, she

would let herself be wrapped up in her fantasies, imagining the Commander in her bed. She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep, for tomorrow would be another day. It just might be the day, THEIR

day. And she couldn't wait...

Her right hand glided down, softly, faintly, as though she really didn't want to lose the feel of the door. The Commander turned around, dejectedly, and began walking back to her room. They would

have their time, she promised herself, soon. Before turning the corner, gazing down the hall to Clarke's room, she paused for one last look, faint of a smile ghosting her lips.

"Good night Clarke."


End file.
